


Tear His Wings Off

by twitchtipthegnawer



Category: Westworld (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst and Porn, BDSM, Blow Jobs, Extremely Dubious Consent, Gangbang, Illustrations, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Size Difference, Teddy physically cannot show anything other than enthusiastic consent even if he wants to, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:09:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24431113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twitchtipthegnawer/pseuds/twitchtipthegnawer
Summary: Not every host needed to be calibrated in such a drastic manner, but Teddy was a special case. The first host many guests saw when they arrived at the park - and the first most set their eyes on.He needed to be able to withstand anything they could put him through. To maintain the illusion, no matter what.Some of the technicians who watched this felt a bit of guilt. After all, he looked so human, and his reactions were so endearing. But others were so eager, they'd drawn lots for the privilege.
Relationships: Teddy Flood/Drone Hosts, Teddy Flood/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19





	Tear His Wings Off

**Author's Note:**

  * For [raphae11e](https://archiveofourown.org/users/raphae11e/gifts).



Teddy’s programming had been altered a bit for the calibration test. Way back in the day, they’d tried to do this sort of thing with the host only half-aware of the proceedings, to preserve their ignorance of the true nature of their world. But why bother, when they’d only be wiped afterwards anyway? And besides, it confounded the results quite a bit.

They wanted to test his endurance to  _ particular  _ kinds of overstimulation, and after this most recent update added even  _ more  _ wetware, they had to take into account his likelihood of struggling. Even if he was enjoying himself, Teddy was not meant to be a  _ passive  _ lover.

He was inside a chamber with glass walls on all sides, a giant, round, white-sheeted bed in the center. He started fully clothed, and the drone hosts lining the walls were little more than silent sentinel statues, for the moment. All but one of them, that was.

“Well would you look at that,” Teddy said, tilting his hat at the drone host currently looming over him. Number Twenty-Seven was identical in appearance to all the other drones, but had been given a temporary personality download for the duration of the test. “You’re a mighty large fella, ain’t ya?”

Twenty-Seven cocked his head at Teddy, who held his hands up in front of himself. “I don’t mean no harm by it, just impressed is all.”

In response, Twenty-Seven bent down, and mashed his faceplate against Teddy’s mouth. The man made a surprised sound, and someone outside the room took note - edit the personality program to remove functions which the drones were incapable of reproducing. The kind of simple oversight that happened over and over again during tests like these. It was alright, though; the rest of the desired behaviors were well within the drones’ abilities.

“Oh, slow down,” Teddy mumbled into the non-existent mouth. “You’re - ah, shit!”

It was less an exclamation of annoyance than it was of surprise. Entirely fair, given that Teddy had just been picked up rather easily, and was forced to wrap his legs around Twenty-Seven to stay balanced.

Again, Teddy tried to speak, but was interrupted by Twenty-Seven’s… enthusiasm. The drone’s hands were wrapped around his waist, fingers meeting at his back and, presumably, thumbs at his navel. Teddy was above average size amongst the hosts and guests, so he was certainly not used to the manhandling, but he took to it remarkably well. Another note in his file - and another button pressed.

Drone Number Sixty-Seven moved off the wall directly behind the amorous pair, right as Teddy linked his fingers behind the neck of the drone. He tilted his head, obviously trying to accommodate for the alien anatomy and perfectly pliable in that strong grip. That changed when the second drone pressed against his back, causing him to jump a bit at the unexpected sensation. A wall of solid plastic (more muscle than metal), fever-hot warmth, a hand pressed brazenly against his ass.

For a minute, it did seem Teddy had trouble breaking away from the “kiss,” though whether that was a delay in reflex or the result of some kind of  _ affection  _ remained to be seen. When he did turn his head, it was with his lips slightly parted, a small line visible between his eyebrows. “Darlin’, you wanna join in too?”

Nodding, Sixty-Seven squeezed his hand. It made Teddy arch his back, a soft, “Ah,” falling from his lips. The drone slipped its fingers inside the waistband of Teddy’s jeans, which might have been fine if they’d been  _ human-sized  _ fingers, but as it was Teddy gasped at the belt being drawn tight around his stomach. “C-careful partner.”

In response, Sixty-Seven took hold of his pants and  _ ripped  _ them, exposing Teddy’s underwear for the technicians to see. They’d gone with a modern pair for the test, though usually Teddy was outfitted with a union suit, to match the other male hosts. This meant that the drone could easily push them aside to slip a finger between Teddy’s cheeks, which was exactly what he did.

Teddy yelped and held tighter to Twenty-Seven in response. Taking advantage of this, Twenty-Seven let go of him to rip open his shirt, as well. Teddy squirmed against the expanse of white, almost like he was embarrassed; the way he hid his face in his shoulder certainly seemed to imply such. However, it also looked like he was grinding against the sculpted abs somewhat.

“Y’all are gonna, hah, make a mess of me,” Teddy said, a slight smile in his voice.

But then the drones’ cocks slid from their modesty panels, and brushed up against him. His smile dropped, and he swallowed hard.

Both dicks rubbed against his ass, wetting it with the stringy lube they secreted. His underwear was dampened quickly, causing Teddy to bite down on a whine he couldn’t quite stifle entirely. Then, the finger that had previously pressed against him came back.

This time Sixty-Seven pushed in, as if to say, “Yes. We  _ will  _ make a mess of you.” Except, of course, neither of them could speak, and even if they  _ could _ they hadn’t been given complex enough directives to produce that kind of improvisation. Still, Teddy shuddered as Twenty-Seven nuzzled his ear, his neck, the side of his head, like filthy things had just been whispered in his ear, so quiet that even the technicians couldn’t hear.

Just one of the drone’s fingers was thicker than two of Teddy’s, but his body stretched easily to accommodate. Of course, he gasped, head falling backwards in a way that finally dislodged the hat on his head, and his face had flushed deep red across his cheekbones, but there was no blood nor spikes of pain in his system.

That was likely to change soon.

Thrusting his finger, Sixty-Seven seemed to be gauging how tight and wet Teddy was. Twenty-Seven had begun to jerk his monstrous cock off, and when a thick globule of lubricant began to dribble from his tip, Sixty-Seven caught it and brought it up to Teddy’s ass to add to the mess there.

The host had begun to moan, and what was left of his pants was tenting in the front, dampness beginning to stain the fabric dark there as well. His hands lost their grip, and had to scramble for purchase on Twenty-Seven’s back before the drone could catch him and hold him safely up again. “Too - fuck, fellas, can’t y’all slow down just a bit?”

_ Aborted complaint, _ noted a technician. Another watched raptly as Sixty-Seven thrust in a second finger, as if to punish Teddy - or perhaps just prove him wrong?

Again, Teddy’s body managed to stretch without much issue, though a hot burn of pain lanced up his spine and down one leg at the abrupt intrusion. Even if it was only code, it felt real to  _ him. _

“P-please!” He cried out, eyes gone glassy. Yet, his cock was still twitching at the feeling.

Twenty-Seven rubbed a hand down Teddy’s spine, trying to sooth him. Teddy  _ did  _ get a little more lax in his grip, enough so Sixty-Seven could finger him more vigorously.

He was dwarfed by his partners, but he’d been built  _ durable.  _ When Sixty-Seven deemed him ready, Twenty-Seven was able to grip his hips and, slowly, lower him onto his cock. And though Teddy  _ cried,  _ the highest volume he could manage with his lungs starved for air and his mind shorting out, tears down his cheeks, he didn’t  _ break. _

“Hurts,  _ god almighty,  _ it  _ hurts!”  _ Teddy all but begged, and yet, Twenty-Seven stepped away from Sixty-Seven. He walked, with Teddy still impaled on his cock, to the bed in the center of the chamber. As he did, the simple motion bounced Teddy a bit on his cock. It wasn’t hard enough to be thrusting, but it certainly kept Teddy from adjusting to the intrusion.

When he was laid down on the soft mattress, he looked up at Twenty-Seven. His eyelashes had clumped together, but still, he held onto the drone. And, as the drone leaned down over him, he laid a wet kiss onto its faceplate. Twenty-Seven tilted his head, confusion or reciprocation or both, as Teddy mouthed and licked with rather pure affection.

As if to prove further that Teddy wasn’t particularly protesting, it reached down and began to jerk Teddy off. Its hand was actually too large for a good up-and-down wrist motion, but still, Teddy sobbed and his hips jerked into its touch. It began to thrust, then, going gently and slowly to allow Teddy the time that hadn’t been given to preparation. Eventually, he rocked his hips back into it, and in spite of his initial protest he seemed to be enjoying the sensations rather greatly.

Eyes rolling back in his head, Teddy began to babble, “There,  _ there,  _ that’s the angle - ”

Sixty-Seven joined them on the bed, but all he did was pet Teddy’s hair, and he nuzzled into the hand with all the affection of a coddled kitten, not a fucked-out man.

“You - you’re so  _ big,  _ fuck! I’m, ah! Gonna be  _ ruined,  _ ain’t gonna be able to keep your come in me, be leakin’ it all over the bed - ”

Under ten minutes, to get used to a foot-long cock. Now  _ that  _ was an impressive showing, though it wasn’t enough to get Teddy off the hook for the rest of the test.

Twelve minutes in he was already coming, striping his chest and the remnants of his shirt with creamy white. Sixty-Seven carefully divested him of the cloth, including his underwear and shoes. Soon after, too soon for Teddy to become properly oversensitive, Twenty-Seven came inside him, flooding him with lube which, as Teddy predicted, soaked the sheets under him as soon as the drone pulled out.

Of course, Teddy didn’t relax for long before Sixty-Seven was straddling his chest. Obediently, Teddy lifted his head and smiled at its featureless face. “Don’t worry darlin’, I didn’t forget about you. Come here,” he coaxed gently.

Gripping Sixty-Seven’s ass in both hands, Teddy guided his cock into his mouth. His eyelids fluttered shut, body lax and defenseless as the drone began to rock his hips, feeding Teddy more and more of his length on each gentle thrust. This, combined with the afterglow, was enough to lull Teddy into a false sense of security.

Behind the wall, someone pressed a series of buttons.

Seventy-Four, One-Hundred, and Ninety-Seven all twitched to life. They approached the bed, two heading to the foot of it, one around the side.

Ninety-Seven reached out and caught one of Teddy’s wrists, drawing it away from Sixty-Seven. This caught him by surprise, and he choked on the next thrust of Sixty-Seven’s hips. Sixty-Seven backed off, just a bit, allowing Teddy to pull off his cock and blink blearily up at one of the newcomers.

“Well, I didn’t think there were any more of y’all, but ain’t you just a vision,” he purred. Gently, he did as Ninety-Seven seemed to want, and began to jerk off the newest cock that had been shoved in his face. It was so thick that his fingers couldn’t quite wrap all the way around, and the textures on it were distinctly inhuman, ridges and lines intended to induce the greatest possible pleasure in their partner.

Despite this, Teddy’s programming insisted these faceless beasts were nothing more than ordinary humans, and so that was what he saw them as. Generic, brawny men, who wanted to feel big and strong and powerful. So Teddy was pliant, twisted his wrist and rubbed his thumb over the sticky head of Ninety-Seven’s cock while he went back to licking Sixty-Seven’s.

With Teddy’s mouth occupied, there were only the sounds of sex filling the chamber. The slickness of Teddy’s hand and mouth moving in tandem, perhaps a bit too perfect to be human - but then Sixity-Seven slipped a bit deeper, and Teddy was forced to swallow over and over again to control his gag reflex, and his hand finally faltered.

All this time, One-Hundred and Seventy-Four were watching carefully. Something seemed to  _ snap _ in them, perhaps at the sign of weakness; One-Hundred caught Teddy by the thighs and pushed his legs  _ wide,  _ until his joints audibly  _ creaked  _ and he made a sound that came through high and startled even with a cock muffling it.

“Do you ever feel bad, seeing them struggle like this?” One technician said to another as One-Hundred thrust his cock into Teddy’s abused, red and puffy asshole.

“Not really,” they responded. “I mean, he gets fucked up, we just patch him up, yeah?”

Watching carefully, they observed as Seventy-Four reached between Teddy’s legs to press a thick finger against his ass. Though it was already stretched to the limit with One-Hundred’s dick, and though Teddy did his best to complain wordlessly, Seventy-Four managed to force it in. His resulting keen only made Sixty-Seven thrust  _ deeper,  _ until no noise could escape at all.

“Guess so,” said the technician. “And it’d be worse if we sent him out there defective and he hurt a guest, or something.”

“Stop chit-chatting in the middle of a test,” hissed their coworker.

Dutifully, they both fell silent, just in time for Sixty-Seven to come straight down Teddy’s throat. He swallowed hard, body now filled with synthetic come-lube from both ends. When the drone retreated, he breathed a sigh of relief, seeming to expect him to get off his chest. Instead, a pair of thick fingers were thrust straight into his mouth, forcing him to open it. As if Sixty-Seven wanted to ensure he’d swallowed it all properly.

All this while Teddy was still being fucked by One-Hundred, who was joined shortly by Seventy-Four. The drones didn’t seem to care when Teddy’s sounds were plainly pained, nor that they couldn’t get  _ deep  _ inside him with the awkward angle they were at.

Their cocks were long enough they could still get fairly good thrusts in, and Teddy’s sounds took on a staccato quality that had some of the watchers adjusting their pants covertly. Sixty-Seven began to thrust his fingers in and out of Teddy’s mouth, further adding to the rhythm of his noises. Ninety-Seven went neglected for a minute, but when he  _ squeezed  _ Teddy’s wrist hard enough to bruise deeply, Teddy started moving his hand up and down again.

In the midst of it all was poor, sweet Teddy. He was faring remarkably well, though. He’d already gotten hard again.

Seventy-Four tilted his head towards Teddy’s cock, almost purple from how neglected it had become. One-Hundred nodded, and, with each of them holding one of Teddy’s legs at an unforgiving angle, their used their spare hands to take turns jerking him off.

Of course, it wasn’t enough sensation to get him off, but it was enough to make him sob and beg for relief, when Sixty-Seven finally released his mouth for a moment.

“P-please, I’ll be good ‘n won’t fight or, ah! Or nothin’, promise! Fuck, shit,  _ please!” _

They didn’t seem sympathetic. Or, more accurately, they gave him his wish - striping his stomach with come, forcing his ab muscles into stark relief as he came for the second time in too few minutes to really recover.

And then they kept right on fucking him.

Finally, Teddy seemed close to breaking down. It wasn’t in the tenor of his pleas, “Come on, just - just a f-few minutes, I’m beggin’ y’all, promise I’ll be ready and rarin’ soon, just - please!” Rather, it was in the fact that his voice fizzled and popped on a few of the syllables, betraying his true nature.

And then, when Sixty-Seven briefly got off of him to resituate, there was a moment where four of them were looming over Teddy menacingly. The harsh light in the room lit them from behind, both giving them halos and casting their features (or lack thereof) in threatening shadow. Teddy, whose cries had gotten breathless and quieter, said, “It’s a bag of nails, s’what it is. Y’all set me up fit to be tied but didn’t give me no ropes. Ain’t this the bone orchard?”

He began to panic, tried to flail - but Ninety-Seven caught his hands, and before he could say anything else, Sixty-Seven sat on his face.

One of the technicians typed furiously, then muttered, “Authentic slang? Why was  _ that  _ the scripting he fell back on?”

“It’s supposed to be used sparingly, for immersion but to avoid confusion,” another murmured back. “Maybe this is the programming trying to  _ tell us  _ it can’t function properly?”

A third, rubbing at their forehead and more tired than fascinated, said, “I feel like I need a dictionary, or a translator or some shit.”

In spite of everything, or perhaps because he wanted it to end faster, Teddy ate Sixty-Seven out with the same enthusiasm he’d put into the blowjob. Ninety-Seven came on his chest, returned to his place on the wall, and was replaced by number Eight. Seventy-Four and One-Hundred came inside him, which left him with a not inconsiderable bulge in his stomach. Thirty-Eight and Fifty-Two took their places.

On and on it went, with Teddy becoming more and more wrung out. That “authentic slang” cropped up a few more times, along with an instance of incoherent  _ sounds  _ that didn’t sound human in the  _ least.  _ It made the hair on the backs of more than a few necks stand up, but they didn’t stop. Couldn’t, until Teddy wasn’t just breaking, but  _ broken. _

As it turned out, it was less about the number of people he had to get off (because oh, he could  _ handle that,  _ his stomach was full and come had leaked out his nose from one too many times choking and he was still able to  _ keep going)  _ than it was about  _ him  _ getting off.

After his fifth orgasm, he just… stopped.

“Did he go into sleep mode?”

“No, his eyes are still open.”

“Halt the experiment.”

Teddy could  _ hear  _ them. As if in a dream, some unending  _ hot  _ thing. A desert in bare feet, nothing to drink and no horse at his side. He knew he had to keep walking, but he was  _ tired. _

Staring at the horizon, he’d just… stopped.

There was the sun above him, or something like it, something close enough that it didn’t matter one way or the other. The same as the faceplates and shields that leaned over him. Not the same - close enough. Why distinguish?

“Teddy. Teddy, are you awake?”

“Wish I could see your face...” He croaked, parched and tired, tired, tired. “I’m sure you’re a vision, y’all are, but here you go hidin’...”

“...Rest, Teddy, in a deep and dreamless slumber.”

Like an ocean, flash flood, sudden nightfall - it went dark.

**Author's Note:**

> No season 3 spoilers please! My bff (@raphdoods on insta) and I just recently finished season 2, and she liked it so much I had to give her a bit of a gift. In exchange, she gave me some lovely art! :3c Also check out my twitter @twitchingcorpse if you, too enjoy sad robot boys!


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